


Prisoner's Dilemma

by Fallowsthorn



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Alien Biology, Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Cunnilingus, F/M, Frottage, Johnny's Shadow is Sir Not Appearing in This Fic, M/M, Multi, Topping from the Bottom, extremely mild dubcon on a technicality, fuck or starve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14302959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallowsthorn/pseuds/Fallowsthorn
Summary: Plasmius is hungry. It turns out that this is not, in fact, an unknown condition.





	Prisoner's Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Craving You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4281129) by [Silvermoonphantom (Daitoshi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daitoshi/pseuds/Silvermoonphantom). 



> I did tag for dubcon because technically this is a fuck-or-die scenario, but nobody feels taken advantage of and it's not nearly as dire as any of that sounds. Still, take care of yourselves.
> 
> And why is putting in the tags the part that makes me blush? I wrote the damn thing.

Vlad tapped his fingers together, waiting for Skulker to arrive. He'd only employed the ghost for a handful of contracts so far, but the jobs had been done quickly and well. He was Plasmius at the moment, and the only thing that kept him from doubling over in pain was that he'd be damned if anyone saw him that way.

It didn’t hurt as much in his human form, and there was nothing physically wrong with him that couldn't be attributed to his ghost half. Vlad’s guess was that he was missing something like a vitamin or mineral that was essential for ghosts but useless or even toxic to humans. He wasn’t willing to ingest random things to find out what it was, hence the offer to Skulker.

Which was all very well and good in theory, but in practice... it hurt. It hurt a great deal. It felt as though everything between his rib cage and his pelvis had been yanked out and then sutured back together too tightly. He was so hungry it didn't even register as hunger anymore, just a weakness, an ache. A craving.

Skulker chose that moment to enter from the Ghost Zone, giving Vlad a welcome distraction.

“You need someone found?” Skulker said, with his usual lack of pleasantries. 

That was alright. Vlad wasn't in the most patient of moods. “Not quite. I'm looking for information.” Now came the delicate part. If he phrased this wrong, Skulker was just as likely to attack him as to take the job. “I believe I am deficient in some nutrient vital to ghosts.” Perhaps vital wasn't the best word. Ah well. “I require any texts you can find on the subject, to begin my own research.”

Skulker stilled, as only a ghost could, then studied Vlad. “You think so for a reason. What is it?”

Vlad didn't blink, but he did wet his lips, feeling the sharp flat edge of one of his fangs as his tongue slid past it. “I am... hungry. Incredibly so.”

Skulker’s expression went from suspicious to incredulous in about two seconds. “Are you telling me,” he said slowly, “that Vlad Plasmius doesn't know how to handle his Hunger?”

Vlad could hear the capital letter, and resisted the urge to strangle Skulker. It wouldn't be very satisfying anyway. “If I had more information, I might know,” he said pointedly.

“You don’t know what I'm talking about,” Skulker realized. “How have you become this powerful without....” He saw Vlad’s lip curl back from his teeth, and wisely dropped the thought. “I can’t help you, not with this. Here.” He unlocked a compartment in his arm and took out a vial of... something. It looked like ectoplasm, but much paler and more opaque, almost milky. “Drink this for now. It will take the edge off.”

“What is it?” Vlad said, not exactly enthused about drinking some mystery substance Skulker had produced out of nowhere.

Skulker looked between him and the vial, then shrugged and said, “Ghost ejaculate. From Desiree, I think.”

“I'm sorry?” Vlad said, having expected more or less anything except that. He must have heard wrong. “It’s _what?”_

Skulker uncorked the vial. Vlad immediately couldn't look away. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever smelled and he didn't have a single good word to describe it. He realized he was salivating, and swallowed.

“You’ve drugged it, haven't you,” he accused, but he still couldn't take his eyes off that vial. He took a step forward without really meaning to. “Whatever’s really in there. It's poisoned.”

“No,” Skulker said. He kept holding the vial out, watching Vlad’s pupils dilate like a cat’s when he moved slightly. “No true hunter needs poison to capture his prey. Take it and I will find someone who can help you.”

Vlad hesitated, then crossed the room, snatched up the vial, and downed the liquid in it in one swift motion. It felt like eating a raw oyster, and was just as unpleasant, but the taste.... If he had thought it _smelled_ divine....

Vaguely, he wondered if it was addictive, and then stopped caring. He could feel the clenched fist in his gut ease, just slightly. It wasn't enough. It wasn’t even close to enough. But it wasn't nothing.

When he looked up, Skulker had left, so either he'd come back eventually or he wouldn’t. In the meantime, Vlad scrutinized the drop of fluid left in the bottom of the vial. He decided it was enough for basic analysis and quickly set up a microscope slide.

He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, and didn’t find it; ectoplasm wasn’t made of cells, so all that the microscope showed was a faint greenish tint on a blank background. So much for that. He took the slide out of the microscope and fought the urge to lick it. Whatever was wrong with him, he wasn’t going to debase himself by licking fluid off the glass like he was starving for it. 

But he _was_ starving for it, he realized with a jolt. And there was no one in the room....

The whirr of the ghost portal starting up gave him just enough time throw the slide back down on the counter and stand to face whoever was coming through. That turned out to be Johnny, Kitty, and Skulker.

Vlad, who mostly knew of the other two ghosts so that he could avoid them, gave Skulker an unimpressed look. Skulker just shrugged back.

“They were around and they don't want to kill you this week. Suck it up.”

Kitty snickered. At what, Vlad couldn't tell.

Johnny approached him. He was almost a foot shorter than Vlad, but still managed to pull off a vaguely condescending look, somehow. “Okay,” he said. “What’d the tin can tell you?”

“Clearly, not enough,” Vlad said through gritted teeth, glaring at Skulker. Annoyingly, this seemed to have no effect on the ghost, who smirked at him and moved across the room to sit next to Kitty on the countertop. It probably would have broken if they weren't both incorporeal.

“You get that I'm tryna help you here, right?”

Vlad dragged his gaze back to Johnny. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Johnny eyed him, then seemed to come to a decision. “You gotta blow someone,” he said bluntly. “You got me or Kitty, I know when I first died I was picky about that kinda thing.”

Vlad stared at him, waiting for the punchline.

Johnny just looked at him, then at Skulker, over his shoulder. “Are you sure about this? Cause i gotta tell you, he seems awful composed for--”

Vlad fisted one hand in Johnny’s shirt and yanked him up to eye level. There was fire in his eyes, he knew, and he stared at Johnny like a hooded cobra at a mouse. “You _dare_ mock me,” he fumed.

Johnny tilted his head to the side and kissed him.

Vlad leaned into it before he even realized it was happening. It felt _good._ How long had it been since he'd last touched someone? Not since before the accident. Years. Vaguely, he was aware of Johnny’s legs around his waist, their hips sliding together. His knees almost buckled. The Hunger - and he knew why it was a capital letter, now - was at the forefront of his mind, demanding attention, demanding action.

He broke the kiss and pinned Johnny to the wall by his shirt, ignoring both Johnny’s erection, visible under his loose cargo pants, and his own. “What did you do to me,” he ground out.

“Usually it's called makin’ out,” Johnny said, insufferably steady. “And wow, if it gets to you that bad, no wonder you need help.”

Vlad snarled and resisted the urge to rip Johnny’s throat out with his teeth. Or do anything else involving Johnny’s throat and his teeth. His breathing was still rough, and the mental images weren't helping.

Skulker took pity on him. “You need the essences of other ghosts to survive,” he said. “We all do.”

Vlad’s mind cleared a bit as he thought that over. “That’s why you had that vial,” he realized. Not because Skulker had conceived of some plot on him, but because he might have needed it himself.

“Yes.”

Vlad turned away from Johnny a little, though he didn’t let go of him. “You said you couldn't help me. Not wouldn't, couldn't. Why?”

Finally, somebody other than Vlad looked uncomfortable. “It’s not relevant,” Skulker said stiffly.

“Isn't it?” Vlad purred. Johnny squirmed at the sound, but he wasn’t quite close enough to reach Vlad. Kitty, on Skulker’s other side, looked curious too. 

Skulker refused to play. “No, it isn't. There are some ghosts, especially the more primitive ones, who will hunt and eat other ghosts to satisfy their Hunger. Mostly that doesn't happen anymore.”

“Why not?” Vlad asked, curious despite himself.

“Cause it's barbaric,” Kitty said.

“Because it tastes terrible,” Skulker said. They looked at each other. “Death is commonplace. It tastes of fear and pain. Orgasm is... intoxicating.”

“Yeah, and also some of us don't go around killing everything we see,” Kitty said sourly.

Johnny huffed out a laugh, drawing Vlad’s attention back to him. Vlad considered him again, now that he had more information, and leaned forward to kiss him sweetly, slowly, gently. He might have been out of practice, but he did know what he was doing, and he wanted a little payback. Johnny moaned into his mouth and tried to get purchase on him. Vlad obliged, but by turning slightly so that Johnny had to grind into his hip instead of directly against him. He ached, yes, his cock ached and his belly ached and it was almost the same kind of ache but just different enough--but what was that, if it stood in the way of revenge?

He moved down Johnny’s jawline and over his throat, kissing, licking, occasionally biting with only a hint of teeth, to tease. “If you keep doing that I'm gonna come in my pants,” Johnny snapped.

Vlad smirked, and didn't stop. “What happens if you do?” he said, low and rumbling against thin skin. If Johnny had been human, Vlad would have felt a pulse beneath his lips. “Aren't you supposed to be the one with--” He pulled Johnny’s shirt aside and licked a long stripe down the muscles connecting his shoulder and throat. “--experience?”

Johnny whimpered, honest to god whimpered, and Vlad heard his head hit the wall with a quiet thump. He stopped, then, but didn’t back off, just moved one hand to Johnny’s side to play with the skin between his waistband and where his shirt had ridden up.

When Johnny spoke, he even sounded like a mess. “Fuck--fuck you, been twenty-one for fifty years--fucking touch me or let me--” He dropped the rest of the sentence and tried to worm one hand between them.

Vlad didn't let him. “I am touching you,” he said, knowing full well that wasn't what Johnny meant. Johnny shoved against him, frustrated. Vlad, never one to be impolite, stepped back. Johnny didn’t fall, but only because he was floating to begin with.

When he realized what had happened, Johnny shoved both hands between his legs, not even bothering to open his pants, just rubbing himself through the fabric. Vlad caught his wrists and pinned him again, arms to either side. “Like this,” he hissed. He jammed his thigh between Johnny’s. “Like this or not at all, I'll go to Kitty, I'll whore myself out to whoever is nearest, but if you want to come in my mouth then like--this--first--”

Johnny dropped his head down and bit Vlad’s shoulder, hard enough that it hurt enough through two layers of fabric, and shuddered and whined and thrashed as he came, trying to get as close to Vlad as possible. Vlad set his teeth and tried desperately not to give in the delicious feeling of a body writhing against his own. He kept control of himself, but only just. When Johnny stilled, both of them were panting hard.

“Kitty,” Vlad said, loud enough for her to hear, “does Johnny have a refractory period?”

“Not if you don't swallow,” Kitty said gleefully. Johnny snapped his head to the side to look at her, then swore emphatically. Kitty apparently relented, because she added, “But give him a minute or two first, so he can reabsorb it.”

This was fine with Vlad, who abruptly felt that he was wearing far more clothing than the occasion warranted. He stepped away from Johnny, who slid down the wall until his feet were on the floor, and started undoing the clasp of his cloak.

Kitty stepped up to him. “Let me help.”

He eyed her sticky right hand, but didn't comment. She caught the look, grimaced, and did... something with her arm that left it clean. Vlad wasn't sure how she'd done it, but he would have to learn. It seemed like a useful trick, in more ways than one.

For some reason that still eluded Vlad, ghosts wore outerwear and nothing else. He'd even experimented with it. No matter what he put on while he was a ghost, if it wasn't visible, it was gone the next time he transformed. The only saving grace was that despite all logic to the contrary, he was never uncomfortable. Nothing chafed or bunched awkwardly or got too hot or felt dirty. In the end he'd decided that it really wasn't the most important mystery he needed to solve, and dropped it.

Kitty helped him undress. She tossed his clothes to the side, and a small part of him whined that they would get wrinkles if she left them in a heap like that. He ignored it. If he didn't make a conscious effort to change how his ghost form looked, then he'd wind up in his normal outfit, looking as crisp and unsullied as if he'd never taken it off.

Kitty ran her hands over his chest and back. She was even shorter than Johnny, perhaps a foot and change shorter than Vlad, so she had to hover to do it. She gave his cock an appreciative look, but ultimately went back to sitting on the counter with her skirt hiked up instead of doing anything about it.

Fine by him. Vlad turned back to Johnny, who still looked tired but seemed a little steadier on his feet, got on his knees, and dragged the younger ghost down to the floor.

(Younger? Johnny might have existed for longer than Vlad, but Vlad hadn’t been twenty-one in a very long time. His own age was another, different can of worms.)

Johnny didn’t struggle, which was very satisfying in its own right. He looked up at Vlad, crouched predatorily over him, and just laughed a little and spread his legs. “Whatever you want, man.”

That was good, since that was exactly what Vlad intended to take.

He yanked Johnny’s pants off roughly, noting with dark delight that he didn’t need to undo the fly to get them over Johnny’s hips. True to Kitty's word, he was already half-hard, and got the rest of the way just from seeing Vlad’s gaze rake over him.

“Fuck me,” he said.

“No,” Vlad said pleasantly. He leaned down.

Johnny shouted when he felt Vlad’s mouth on him, and jerked upwards without meaning to. Vlad kept one arm heavy over Johnny’s thighs so he wouldn't choke. He had done this before, but not recently.

And then the _taste_ hit him. The Hunger roared back in full force. If Desiree had been a sweet wine, Johnny was motor oil and lingering exhaust fumes, and that was just what Vlad could taste half-dried and tacky on his skin. More. He needed _more._

He abandoned finesse entirely and just sucked, being careful of his teeth. He had thought, earlier, of what he might do to overcome his gag reflex; apparently, the answer was, “Nothing, because it doesn’t exist anymore.”

Johnny shouted again, a broken, cracked noise, and came. He had enough presence of mind to keep his hands out of Vlad’s hair, but that energy had to go somewhere, so he bucked and scrabbled at the tile and then bit down on his forearm just to give himself something to work against.

Vlad drank it down greedily, like Johnny was cool water when he hadn’t even realized he was crossing a desert. The only word he could come up with was _ambrosia_. Sweet sustenance. It soothed the Hungry ache in him. Not all the way, but some. Enough to be a relief. He kept working his throat until Johnny started making little pained noises and trying to push him off, then relented, but he still wanted more. _Needed_ more.

He crossed the room in three long strides and knelt in front of Kitty like he was asking for a benediction. “Please,” he said, “please--”

“Yeah,” she panted, and she did grab his head, to shove it between her legs. “Yeah, yeah, right fucking--up, higher, yeah, there, _there--”_

He kept licking her through her orgasm, until he felt what must have been her essence filling his mouth, slightly thicker than the rest of her lube and no less delicious for being the third one he'd tasted that day.

When she was done, he rested his head against her thigh to marvel at the novelty of feeling sated. He'd never been one for gluttony, but this, this relief and euphoria after being _so Hungry_ for _so long_.... He could easily see the temptation.

Someone put a hand on his back. Skulker. Vlad hummed and drew his head back to look at him.

“Let me help you,” Skulker said, not ungently.

Vlad muddled through the fog of bliss. “You said you couldn't.”

“Not with this. With that.” Skulker nodded down at Vlad’s lap. Vlad realized the ache hadn’t gone away, not entirely. He was still aroused, so much so that the head of his cock was wet with precome, or the ghostly equivalent. It added a knife edge to his senses.

He stared up at Skulker. “I won't last,” he said, wondering what in the hell was coming out of his mouth.

“I know,” Skulker said, but didn’t move.

It took Vlad another long moment to realize Skulker was waiting for him to consent, which was strange enough as a concept that he almost laughed. Instead he blurted out, “Yes,” as fast as he could, and reached up to pull Skulker down to his level.

Skulker did laugh, but he was already moving. Vlad expected--he wasn't sure what, but probably that Skulker would wrap one hand around his dick, or just let Vlad hump his thigh like he'd done to Johnny before. Not that Skulker would dip his head down and take Vlad into his mouth, then look up at him, perfectly still, waiting for a reaction.

Vlad also would have guessed, if he'd had to, that the inside of Skulker’s mouth was as metallic as the rest of him. It wasn’t. It still didn't feel like flesh, but it was silky smooth and clearly alive and warm, somehow, where Johnny and Kitty hadn’t been. He tried not to fuck Skulker’s mouth, but he couldn't stop his hips from making desperate, stuttering needy motions.

“Say please,” Johnny said. Vlad hadn’t noticed him get up, but he'd moved so he was looking right over Vlad’s shoulder. “Ask him.”

“Please,” Vlad groaned. His voice was a wreck. He didn't care. “Let me come, please.”

Skulker put one hand on Vlad’s hip and bobbed his head slightly, and that was all he needed to do. Vlad came so hard that he curled in a tight ball around Skulker’s head, to the point where if Skulker had been made of real metal, he might have put a dent in the plates. He felt heat flash through his whole body, head to toe, but dismissed it, chasing the tail end of orgasm.

When Vlad opened his eyes, Kitty and Johnny were staring at him. He let go of Skulker and looked down at himself, then put two and two together. That heat. He'd returned to his human form without meaning to. His secret was exposed and worse, he was close to powerless.

...He couldn't really bring himself to panic about it. That was the nice thing about orgasms. Nothing was urgent, if you'd just had one.

“Well,” Skulker said. He sounded hoarse, but it had to be for effect; Skulker’s voice had nothing to do with his mouth or throat. “That explains a fair amount. I'd wondered why your lair wasn't in the Ghost Zone.”

Vlad gave up and laid down, being careful not to elbow Johnny in the process. Kitty got off the counter and laid down next to him, putting her head on Vlad’s chest. She made a soft delighted sound. “Johnny, baby, check this out.”

Johnny mirrored her, and his eyes widened slightly, then shut. Vlad frowned, confused, and then it hit him: they were listening to his heartbeat. It was probably something they hadn't heard or felt since they'd died.

They really were younger than him. Maybe not chronologically, but they still had a strange sense of wonder that Vlad had lost in the hospital and never gotten back. Not to mention a fair bit more stamina. Now that the endorphins were wearing off, all Vlad wanted to do was lie there and maybe sleep. He wouldn’t--he wasn’t going to leave three ghosts unsupervised in his lab--but he wanted to.

“Aww,” Skulker said, as though he wished he had a camera. “Plasmius is a cuddler.”

“So are you, dork,” Kitty said without moving. Blindly, she hooked her foot behind Skulker and unbalanced him so he’d fall forward onto Vlad. He let her, then nested his head on Vlad’s abdomen, just above his hip bone. Vlad freed his arm from Kitty and let it drift down to the back of Skulker’s neck, tentatively. Skulker made a deep, pleased noise, like some enormous cat.

“Why sex?” Vlad asked eventually.

“Oh my god shut up,” Kitty mumbled.

“No one knows,” Skulker said, ignoring her. “It isn’t always. Once you get down to the more animalistic ghosts and less-formed spirits, they just hunt and kill, and get their essences that way. Usually if it can hold a conversation, it probably won’t try to eat you. At least immediately.”

Vlad hummed. “Yes, you said earlier.”

“Wasn’t sure if you were paying attention.”

“Why help me? Why not just wait for me to starve?”

Skulker shifted. “You needed it,” he said simply. “Others will need it in the future, and you’ll give it to them. No matter what territory disputes or grudges are in the way, everyone deals with the Hunger. No one wants to be isolated, so no one isolates.” He paused. “And you can only kill something for its essence once.”

“Sex is the gift that keeps on giving,” Johnny said, half to Vlad’s chest and half to the room in general.

Vlad, now that he’d collected himself a little, transformed back into Plasmius. It meant his clothes appeared back on him, but oh well. The stone tile was cold, for a human, and none of the people lying on him had body heat to share.

That reminded him. He picked his head up to look at Skulker. “How did you make your mouth warm?”

“Electrical engineering. There are components of my body that don’t do well in the cold. An internal temperature is a side effect, and a very useful one at that.”

Kitty sat up. “Your mouth is warm?” She reached down.

Vlad didn’t see what Skulker did, but he heard him say, “I’ll bite them off, girl,” and Kitty withdrew her hands with a pout. It didn’t last very long, though; she looked at Johnny and failed to hide a smile.

“He’s asleep!” she stage-whispered, in the same tone of voice she might have used to say, “It’s a basket full of puppies!”

“Mmmnot,” Johnny said, eyes still closed. He yawned, but pushed himself up, which Vlad was glad for. It would have felt petty to turn intangible and drop Johnny on the floor. Hilarious, but petty.

Skulker moved, as well, and eventually the four of them got to their feet. Johnny and Kitty left through the portal, already engaged in a hushed but rapidfire conversation. Vlad looked at Skulker.

“I suppose I should thank you,” he said, and ruthlessly crushed the absurd impulse to hug the man. That was just ridiculous.

Skulker shook his head. “You’re a ghost-human hybrid. One of a kind, and now I have your essence. I got what I wanted, even if it wasn’t what I came here for.” He turned on his heel and left before Vlad had time to react.

After a second or two, he let it go. There wasn’t much he could do about it, in the end. If Skulker tried to use it against him, he’d deal with that the same as he would with any other threat. For now, he needed to take notes.

And maybe a long hot shower.


End file.
